Memoirs of a Muppets Writer: (You mean somebody actually writes that stuff?) by Mr. Joseph A. Bailey Page B
Authors: Mr. Joseph A. Bailey
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the stormy sky.
In language that would make a rapper blush, she told us in no uncertain terms that this was private property not some kind of zoo and we, outsiders, were by no means welcome.
Her verbal attack was so virulent that Jon and I beat a hasty retreat, tails between legs, as expletives echoed through the narrow streets. We knew it was futile to try to explain our presence. As we walked to the car in the rain, an unspoken sentiment hung heavily in the cold damp air that this whole pueblo shoot had a very bad feel about it.
The next day, Jon and I had a script meeting about the Pueblo shoot. The only productive thing to come out of it was a mutual decision to scrap most of the Pueblo pieces I had written back in New York. I went back to my room to write some new material.
After a bit of hand wringing and head banging I came up with the germ of an idea. As usual, simple works best. But simple is so damned elusive.
The day of the Pueblo shoot arrived warm and sunny. Neither of us would admit it, but after our encounter with the Indian woman, we were both surreptitiously checking to make sure the Pueblo men were still wearing blankets.
But in the balmy weather, our spirits and expectations began to rise. And on this visit to the Pueblo, with a full video crew and compliment of equipment, it was pretty obvious that we had the Governor’s permission to be there. In fact, we had the Governor there, too. And the Pueblo residents were nothing but cordial and helpful to us.
In deference to the Governor and other elders of the Pueblo, we had set up a special viewing area for them with a television monitor on the back of a station wagon. There were four or five of them sitting there, staring expressionlessly at the screen. Not a word passed between them. A small crowd of other residents formed respectfully behind them, as our script began to unfold.
The Sesame Street characters involved in this segment were Maria, our Puerto Rican character, and Buffy Saint Marie, who was then also a cast member and is a full-blooded Cree Indian.
In my new script, Buffy is going to visit some friends in the Pueblo and asks if Maria and Big Bird would like to go along. The three jump in the pick up truck and head for the Pueblo.
But at the entrance to the Pueblo, Big Bird becomes apprehensive. He has never been in a pueblo before. In fact, he’s not even sure what a pueblo is and what he’s supposed to do when he gets there.
Buffy and Maria gently explain to him that a pueblo is just a place where Indians live. It’s just a home, and you behave the way you behave in anybody’s home. The way you’d like people to act in your home. And, if you have any questions, just be polite and ask.
This placates Big Bird a bit. But then he remembers he’s never met an Indian. But he’s seen pictures and they look pretty scary with all their feathers. Those feathers have to come from some place or somebody.
Buffy explains, much to Big Bird’s incredulity, that she’s an Indian. And, that Indians only wear feathers for ceremonies and special occasions. The rest of the time, they just look like everyone else, leaving Big Bird to ponder that if he took off his feathers, he’d look just like everyone else. With a greatly relieved Big Bird, the trio entered the Pueblo.
The rest of the day went well. Buffy did some wonderful music numbers surrounded by Indian kids. Big Bird looked beautiful and was the instant hit he always is. And, since he naturally sheds a bit, by the end of the day many of the Pueblo residents had decorated their hat bands with brilliant yellow feathers.
Our final set up was the little square where Jon and I had encountered the Indian woman several days earlier. The scene went very well and Jon called it a wrap for the day.
As the crew started to pack up, the effect our opening piece had on the Pueblo residents became evident, when the same Indian woman who had cursed out Jon and me a few days earlier approached us.
In language that would make a rapper blush, she told us in no uncertain terms that this was private property not some kind of zoo and we, outsiders, were by no means welcome.
Her verbal attack was so virulent that Jon and I beat a hasty retreat, tails between legs, as expletives echoed through the narrow streets. We knew it was futile to try to explain our presence. As we walked to the car in the rain, an unspoken sentiment hung heavily in the cold damp air that this whole pueblo shoot had a very bad feel about it.
The next day, Jon and I had a script meeting about the Pueblo shoot. The only productive thing to come out of it was a mutual decision to scrap most of the Pueblo pieces I had written back in New York. I went back to my room to write some new material.
After a bit of hand wringing and head banging I came up with the germ of an idea. As usual, simple works best. But simple is so damned elusive.
The day of the Pueblo shoot arrived warm and sunny. Neither of us would admit it, but after our encounter with the Indian woman, we were both surreptitiously checking to make sure the Pueblo men were still wearing blankets.
But in the balmy weather, our spirits and expectations began to rise. And on this visit to the Pueblo, with a full video crew and compliment of equipment, it was pretty obvious that we had the Governor’s permission to be there. In fact, we had the Governor there, too. And the Pueblo residents were nothing but cordial and helpful to us.
In deference to the Governor and other elders of the Pueblo, we had set up a special viewing area for them with a television monitor on the back of a station wagon. There were four or five of them sitting there, staring expressionlessly at the screen. Not a word passed between them. A small crowd of other residents formed respectfully behind them, as our script began to unfold.
The Sesame Street characters involved in this segment were Maria, our Puerto Rican character, and Buffy Saint Marie, who was then also a cast member and is a full-blooded Cree Indian.
In my new script, Buffy is going to visit some friends in the Pueblo and asks if Maria and Big Bird would like to go along. The three jump in the pick up truck and head for the Pueblo.
But at the entrance to the Pueblo, Big Bird becomes apprehensive. He has never been in a pueblo before. In fact, he’s not even sure what a pueblo is and what he’s supposed to do when he gets there.
Buffy and Maria gently explain to him that a pueblo is just a place where Indians live. It’s just a home, and you behave the way you behave in anybody’s home. The way you’d like people to act in your home. And, if you have any questions, just be polite and ask.
This placates Big Bird a bit. But then he remembers he’s never met an Indian. But he’s seen pictures and they look pretty scary with all their feathers. Those feathers have to come from some place or somebody.
Buffy explains, much to Big Bird’s incredulity, that she’s an Indian. And, that Indians only wear feathers for ceremonies and special occasions. The rest of the time, they just look like everyone else, leaving Big Bird to ponder that if he took off his feathers, he’d look just like everyone else. With a greatly relieved Big Bird, the trio entered the Pueblo.
The rest of the day went well. Buffy did some wonderful music numbers surrounded by Indian kids. Big Bird looked beautiful and was the instant hit he always is. And, since he naturally sheds a bit, by the end of the day many of the Pueblo residents had decorated their hat bands with brilliant yellow feathers.
Our final set up was the little square where Jon and I had encountered the Indian woman several days earlier. The scene went very well and Jon called it a wrap for the day.
As the crew started to pack up, the effect our opening piece had on the Pueblo residents became evident, when the same Indian woman who had cursed out Jon and me a few days earlier approached us.
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